TWO LINES
The vertical and horizontal lines
Two ones which always keep a great idea,
It is a cross of fate and this is clear,
Gods masterpiece, on which you must rely.
The horizontal line is our world,
Severe, idle, prudent, calculating,
In which each third is quickly elevating,
Each fifth begins to beg without a word.
The vertical is made for human souls,
The real home at which you neednt bother,
The sun, the sky, the soul are joint authors,
And they will drive away the beastly cold.
But in the middle is a man himself,
He rushes to the left to change direction,
hen to the right, up, down without
perfection,
Oh, God, please, help and save, dont put
to death.
The vertical and horizontal lines
Two ones which always keep a great idea,
One way is far, anothers plain and near,
Wholl prompt me which one is exactly
mine?